


Harry Potter: Trinity

by S3v3nW0nd3rs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:41:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S3v3nW0nd3rs/pseuds/S3v3nW0nd3rs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trinity Clairborn is starting her first year at Hogwarts. Little does she know the types of adventures she'll be in for after befriending the boy who lived. Watch as she makes friends, enemies, and history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Preparation

I’m woken from my sleep by a gentle shake and a squeaky voice. “Mistress Trinity, you must get up. Mistress Vivian does not want you to be late.”

I turn over and bury my head deeper into the pillow. “Five more minutes ZZ.” I groan.

“Breakfast is ready Mistress Trinity.” The house elf prods me.

“It’s just Trinity ZZ. I’ll be down later, just a few more minutes.”

“Master Alec told ZZ to pour water on you if you try to stay in bed-“ She start but I interrupt her.

“Yeah right.” I keep my eyes shut.

“Mistress Vivian approved.”

My eyes snap open at that information. “Okay, okay, I’m up.” I sit up. Mom doesn’t normally approve of dad’s jokes or pranks but every now and then she’ll give him a pass in hopes of teaching me a lesson.

“Mistress Trinity must hurry; it’s going to be a busy day.”

I blearily rub my eyes and get out of bed, stumbling slightly as I make my way to the door. I walk into the hallway and see my dad with a look of giddy anticipation on his face.

His face falls at the sight of me. “Damn, I was hoping you’d be more stubborn this morning. The sight of your soaked face would’ve made my day.”

I scoff. “Thanks dad.” We walk down the stairs. “Y’know most parents would at least show some kind of heartache at the thought that they won’t be seeing their child for four to nine months.”

“You’re attending one of the best schools in the world. I’m too proud to be sad.” He grins as we enter the dining room.

“I still don’t understand why I couldn’t just go to Salem. I get that we moved to England, but if I’m going to a boarding school I at least want to be with people I know instead of being surround by strangers with weird accents.”

My mother walks in from the kitchen. “As I explained before, some of the best witches and wizards I know attended Hogwarts. Your godfather is one of them.” She says. “This is a chance to study under amazing professors and while Salem is a good school, Hogwarts will open more doors for you in the future.” She hands me a letter after we take our seats at the table. “We’re going to be making a quite a few stops today so eat quickly.”

A loud pop sounds through the room as ZZ appears. She goes around the table, filling my glass with orange juice before pouring coffee into my parent’s mugs. We all say our thanks before tucking in.

I scan the list in my hand.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_UNIFORM_

_First-year students will require:_

_1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

_COURSE BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_Wand, cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set_

_Glass or crystal phials_

_Telescope set_

_Brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

I groan after reading the last line. “No broomsticks? Should I rip my soul out and leave it here as well?”

“Don’t so dramatic.” Mom says. “Now hurry up and finish so you can get dressed. We need to be gone before noon if we want to be on schedule.”

“What schedule?”

“Once we get your supplies I need to check on the apothecary and then we need to go to the Ministry of Magic.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Just to fill out some paper work.” My dad answers. “Your mother is meeting with the head of the International Magical Trading Standards Body to inform them of the opening of her new stores and I need to see the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.” He frowns at the end. “I’m going to be working with quite a few of them. I want to prove that magical creatures; beast, being, or spirit are sentient and should be allowed rights.”

“Like ZZ.” I nod. Normally house elves are treated like property, but it’s never been like that for my family. Instead of being dressed in some rag of a potato sack, ZZ wears a uniform with the family crest on it. We even pay her twelve galleons a month so she has some spending money for herself.

“Yes.” He nods. “Like ZZ. Hopefully I’ll be able to make a change here.”

“I don’t doubt that you will.” My mom smiles at him.

We stand in front of the fireplace after finishing breakfast and getting dressed.

“I’ll go first, Trinity you follow after me, and your mom will be right behind you.” Dad grabs a handful of floo powder and steps into the fireplace. “Diagon Alley!” He throws the fire down and disappears in a swirl of green flames.

Mom taps me on the shoulder, nudging me to go next. I gather floo powder in my hand and step into the fire place. “Diagon Alley!” I stumble out of the fireplace and my dad catches me, brushing some of the soot off of me.

A moment later, my mother appears and steps out of the fireplace. She looks at us and rolls her eyes, taking her wand out of its sheath and points it at us. “ _Scourgify.”_ She does the same to herself. “Now, let’s get going.”

We walk down the alley, passing various shops on the way. A passing sign catches my eye. “Can we get my wand first?”

My mom follows my eye line. “We will get your wand, but now from there.”

My brows furrow in confusion. “Then where?”

“You’ll see.” She answers, a small smirk forming on her face.

Finally we make it to the bank with a goblin standing near the doors. I read the words engraved upon them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

　　 _Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

We enter and I watch the goblins as they scribble in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, and examine precious stones through eyeglasses. We stop in front of the large counter.

“We’re here to gather some things from our vault.” My mother says.

The goblin holds his hand out. “Your key?”

She opens her purse and digs it out before placing it in the goblin’s hand.

He accepts the key and leads us to a door, opening it for us. Unlike the marble that covers the main room, we were lead into a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. He whistles and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks before stopping in front of us.

My dad and I grin. “This is the best bank ever. Remember when we first moved here?”

Mom rolls her eyes at us; she was quite annoyed that my dad would keep going to the bank for the smallest reasons just so he can ride the cart to our vault. I always went with him because it was the closest thing the wizarding world had for a rollercoaster. During the whole ride my mom couldn’t keep the small smile off her face at the sight and sound of me and dad whooping through ever twist and turn as we hurtled through the maze of twisting passages. We came to a stop in front of vault 893. We all get off the cart and stand in front of the large door.

Mom smiles down at me. “This is your day; why don’t you do the honors?” She holds out the key.

I push it into the keyhole and unlock it. The door slides out of the way, only to reveal another door behind it. The goblin then steps forward and strokes it gently with one of his long fingers. Gears shift and move before the door melts away, revealing the last door. I hold my hand against the door and feel a prick against each of my fingers. The drop of blood travels around the gears before settling where the keyhole should be. The door to our vault opens. My mother grabs my hand and waves her wand over it. Silently sealing the small wounds and cleaning the blood away. The goblin waits outside as we enter the vault.

“It’s going to be a long year Trini.” Dad says, grabbing an empty coin purse by the entrance of the room. He walks around the room and begins packing galleons, sickles, and knuts into the bag. “Remember; seventeen sickles to a galleon and twenty-nine knuts to a sickle.”

Mom tugs on my hand, having not let go since we entered the vault. “Come. We have to go get your wand.”

“My wand?” I ask. “Where?”

“Here.” She leads me deeper into the vault and stops in front of a large shelf full so slim boxes. “As you know, the Clairborn’s come from a long line of greatness. Not because we’re purebloods, but because we all possessed incredible talents. Your great, great, great grandfather happened to be a wand-maker. He made you grandmother’s wand, my wand, and soon your wand.” She turns to the opposite wall where wands sit in crystal cases underneath the photos of their previous owners. She points to a picture near the bottom. “That’s me.” The picture shows a young version of my mother with a bright smile on her face as sparks shoot from her wand before it changes to an older version of her, showing her casting spells with it. “After today, you’ll be on there as well.”

“What if none of them work with me? I mean, the wand chooses the wizard right?”

“Then we’ll still put you on the wall. The photos are to show your growth as a witch from the first time you pick up a wand, to when you’re fully trained.”

I turn back to the wall of boxes. “How do I know which one to choose?”

“You’ll just feel it. Walk around and run your hand over the boxes, touch the wands and see which one calls to you.”

After an agonizing ten minutes, my mother and father watch me walk back and forth across the shelf. I sigh and turn to them. “I don’t think it’s working. Maybe these wands aren’t for me.”

“You’re thinking too much.” Dad says, fiddling with the camera in his hands. “Just clear you mind and close your eyes. Let the wand call you.”

I take a deep breath and follow his instructions. After a moment my feet begin to lead me towards the end of the shelf my hand shaking as I step closer and closer to my destination. I come to halt when a warm feeling spreads through my hand. I open my eyes and pull the box off the shelf. I read the description on it.

Wood: Purpleheart

Length: 15 inches (including crystal)

Core: Essence of Phoenix Ash

I open the box and see and expertly crafted purple wand with one crystal at the bottom and another at the tip. I take it into my hand and warmth spreads through my body.

My mom smile at me and my dad readies the camera. “Wave to the camera sweetheart.” He says. I set the box down and smile as I wave the wand, sparks shooting out the end as wind rushes through the room. The camera gives a loud click with a flash.

Mom rushes forwards and hugs me. “My baby has her own wand.” She coos into my hair.

“Mom!” I groan, but make no move to break the embrace.

“Hey, group hug!” My dad joins in.

Once we were done with _that_ heartfelt moment. We made our way out of the vault and left the bank to continue our shopping.

We walk through the busy alley and my feet halt at the sight of beauty. There in the front window of the store lies the _Nimbus 2000_ , the best broom yet. “Dad.” I say, basically salivating over the sight as I press my face against the glass.

He follows my gaze and smiles before joining. “That’s a thing of beauty ain’t it?”

“I have to have it.”

Mom grabs both of our shoulders and leads us away from the window. “What am I going to do with you two? Come on, we have shopping to do.”

Soon, our arms are filled with bags and packages filled with my school supplies. “Since I can’t have a broom, can I at least have a pet?”

“What kind?” Mom asks.

“I was thinking a cat. Cliché, I know, but I bet it will be better than an owl or a toad.”

“Are you sure that you can handle the responsibility that comes with owning a pet?”

“Viv, she’s going to be gone for almost a year, and cats can basically take care of themselves. I say we let her get one.”

Mom purses her lips in thought before sighing. “Okay.”

“Yes!” I pump my fist and almost drop my supplies in the process. Mom sighs before taking out her wand and points it at my school supplies, shrinking them. She gathers them out of my hands and sets them in her purse before doing the same with rest.

With my hands now free, I pick up the pace and enter Magical Menagerie. My eyes scan over the various cages before locking on a small movement in the corner. A small black kitten sits in the corner of the cage, facing away from the public.

“You won’t be getting anything out of that one.” A voice says. I turn to see an employee standing near me. “Poor girl’s barely moved since her mum died. All her siblings have been sold. There were a few that were interested in her but she doesn’t really take kindly to strangers.” She explains.

“Maybe we should look at another one Trini.” Dad says.

I look back at the cat before turning to the employee. “Can you open the cage?”

She sighs. “Sure but if I were you, I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” She flicks through the keyring before finding the one belonging to the cage and unlocking it.

Once the cage is open I reach my hand in, stopping just past the entrance and laying it there. A minute or two passes and the cat has made no movement whatsoever.

“Your father’s right. There are other cats here-“

I interrupt my mom with a quiet shushing. After another minute the cat turns toward my hand, revealing striking green eyes. She slowly pads her way over to my hand and sniffs it before nuzzling my palm. I gently begin to pet her small head and she sulks up the attention.

The employee looks on in shock. “She’s never done that before.”

“She probably watched her siblings be taken away by grabby hands. She just wanted someone to wait for her to come to them.” I look at the woman. “Does she have a name?”

She shakes her head. “No, but it’s not like we haven’t tried. She never answered to anything.”

I turn back to the cat. “How about Anastasia? You like that girl?” I scratch behind her ears making her purr in pleasure.

“We’ll take her.” Mom tells the woman.

“Sure. That’ll be seven galleons. Just let me gather up everything you need and she’ll be yours.”

“Thank you.”

I take Anastasia into my hands. “Looks like you’re coming home with us girl.”

The excitement of the day dies down as mom pops into to Clairborn’s Apothecary and we spend several dull hours at the Ministry of Magic.

After that, time seems to fly by and soon I am standing inside platform 9 ¾ getting my trunk situated on the train.

"Gran, I've lost my toad again." I hear a boy say.

"Oh, Neville," An old woman sighs.

Mom hands me the cage holding Anastasia. “Remember it doesn’t matter what house you get into. Though I’m sure you’ll be quite annoyed should you end up in Slytherin. There are a lot of traditional purebloods in that house.”

“Stuck up snobs. All of them.” Dad says.

Mom sniffs and pulls me into her arms, taking the cage from my hand and setting it on the ground. “Oh I’m going to miss you. What am I going to do without my little assistant?”

“Be a wonderful potions mistress without half the explosions because of my experimenting?”

“Oh, but that’s what makes it fun.”

Dad pulls me into a hug as well. “Whatever you do at that school give them hell.”

“Oh I’m sure she will.” We hear.

I turn around and smile. “Uncle Carter!” I leap into his arms.

He gives a burly laugh and wraps me in a tight hug. “Did you think I’d miss seeing my goddaughter off to Hogwarts?” He sets me back onto the ground. He picks up the cage and hands it to me. “Auror or not, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Now the train will be leaving any minute now.”

“One more big hug!” Dad says and the adults all collapse on me in a flurry of hugs and kisses. “Okay, onto the train.”

I wave to them before stepping onto the train and going to find my seat. This is it. My life begins now.


	2. Train Ride

Chapter Two: Train Ride

I walk around the train, looking for a compartment to sit in while dodging kids running up and down the corridor. Finally I see a compartment with some space in it, a red haired boy standing at the entrance.

“Anyone sitting there?" He asks, pointing in. “Everywhere else is full."

I poke my head in as well. “Would you mind me joining?” I ask the dark haired boy with circle spectacles. We enter after he shakes his head. I put Anastasia’s cage on a rack before sitting down.

"Hey, Ron." A pair of red haired twins peak in. “Listen, we're going down the middle of the train; Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," Ron mumbled.

"Harry," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then.”

"Bye," said Harry and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out. Harry nodded. "Oh, well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got…you know…" He pointed at Harry's forehead. The boy pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. "So that's where You-Know-Who-“

"Yes." Harry interrupted him. "But I can't remember it."

“Oh!” I said, finally remembering where I heard his name. “Harry Potter. Sorry, took me a moment to remember who you were.”

Ron gawks at me. “You don’t know who he is?”

“Well I’m not from around here. Voldemort,” Ron flinches at the sound of the name. “was more of a problem for the UK then the rest of the world.”

“You have a different accent.” Harry says.

“That’s because I’m from America. I was born in France but my parents work causes us to move around a bit.” I hold my hand out. “Trinity Clairborn.”

He shakes my hand. “Harry Potter.”

“Clairborn,” Ron repeats my name before his eyes light in recognition. “That’s the name of the new apothecary in Diagon Alley.”

I nod. “My mom owns it. She’s a potions mistress and my dad works with magical creatures.”

"Are all your family wizards?" Harry asks.

“Er…yes, I think so.” Ron answers. “I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

“My family is magical as well but I live in the muggle world.” I say.

“Oh, you must be a half-blood.”

I shake my head. “Pureblood actually.”

“You’re a pureblood and you live in the muggle world?” He asks with wide eyes.

“My family’s never had a problem with muggles. We actually enjoy their technology. Plus my godfather is a muggleborn, so he’s the one who really showed everything to my parents.”

"So you must know loads of magic already." Harry says.

Ron looks at him. “I heard you went to live with Muggles. What are they like?”

“Horrible.” He answers. “Well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five." Ron said with a gloomy look on his face. “I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left. Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat." Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff-“ He stops. “I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink.

Neither I nor Harry thought there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl.

Harry went on to tell us about his life. “…and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort-“ Ron gasps when he says the name. “What?”

“You said You-Know-Who's name!” He says in a mix of shock and awe. “I get why Trinity wouldn’t have a problem but I'd have thought you, of all people-“

“I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name; I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn…I bet.” He ends with worry in his voice. “I bet I'm the worst in the class.”

“You won’t be.” I assure him. “Plenty of people magical family or not struggle in the beginning, they get the hang of it in time.”

For a little while, we spent our time watch the fields go by when a dimpled woman slid back the door. “Anything off the trolley, dears?”

Harry and I leapt to our feet, but Ron’s ears went pink again and he mutters about having packed sandwiches. I buy loads of chocolate frogs, cauldron cakes, and licorice wands. I look at Harry, who stares at the candy in wonder. “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but it’s delicious. Go ahead and try something.” He nodded and got some of everything.

We get back into the compartment and Harry tip the candy into the empty space next to him. I placed my candy between me and Ron, who stares at the amount of sweets on the seat across from him. “Hungry, are you?”

“Starving.” Harry takes a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.

Ron takes out a lumpy package and unwraps it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulls one of them apart and groans. "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

“Swap you for one of these.” Harry holds up a pasty. “Go on.”

“You don't want this, it's all dry. She hasn't got much time, you know, with five of us.”

“Well it’s not like we can finish this all by ourselves.” I push some of my sweets towards him.

“Go on, have a pasty.” Harry offers him.

“What are these?” Harry holds up a pack of chocolate frogs. “They're not really frogs, are they?”

“No, it’s just a spell.” I tell him. “They only have about one good jump in them, after that they’re fine.”

“But see what the card is.” Ron says. “I'm missing Agrippa.”

“What?” Harry asks in confusion.

“Oh, of course, you wouldn't know.” Ron remembers. “Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect; famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy.”

Harry opens the sweet and picks up the card. “So this is Dumbledore!”

“Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!” Ron said. While Harry is reading the card he turns to me. “Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa.” I nod. “Thanks.”

Harry turns his card back and forth. “He's gone!”

“Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day, he’ll be back.” He looks at his own card and groans. “No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her.” He holds it out towards Harry. “Do you want it? You can start collecting.”

“Pictures don’t move in the muggle world Ron.” I tell him.

Harry nods in agreement. “Yeah, people just stay put in photos.”

“Do they? What, they don't move at all?” Ron sounds amazed. “Weird!”

As we tuck into our sweets, Harry opens a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

“You want to be careful with those.” Ron warns him, making me nod in agreement. “When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor -- you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a boogey flavored one once.” He picks up a green one and looks at it in caution before biting into the corn. “Bleaaargh. See? Sprouts.”

We had a good time tasting the beans. I was lucky enough to get watermelon was disgusted when I got eggplant right after it.

Someone knocks on the door and a round faced boy with a tearful expression pokes their head in. “Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?” We all shake our heads, causing him to wail. “I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!”

“He'll turn up.” Harry said, hoping to console him a bit.

“Yes.” He says miserably. “Well, if you see him…” He left.

“Don't know why he's so bothered.” Ron says. “If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk.” He looks at the sleeping rat in his lap in disgust. “He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…” He rummages around his trunk and pulls out a battered looking wand. “Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway-“ Just as he raised his wand the compartment door slides open again.

The boy was back but this time a girl with bushy brown hair and already dressed in her new Hogwarts robes accompanied.  “Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one.”

“We've already told him we haven't seen it.” Ron said but she wasn’t listening, she was looking at his wand.

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then.” She said, sitting down.

Ron, a bit taken aback stared at her. “Er, all right.” He cleared his throat. “Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.” He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

“Are you sure that's a real spell?” She asks. “Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart; of course, I just hope it will be enough. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you.”

I blinked, surprised at how fast she was able to talk and how much she said without taking a breath. “I’m Trinity Clairborn.”

“I’m Ron Weasley.” He muttered.

“Harry Potter.” He introduced himself.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Are you really? I know all about you, of course. I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in ‘Modern Magical History’ and ‘The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts’ and ‘Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century’.”

“Am I?” He asks with a dazed look on his face.

“Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me." She said. "Do any of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…” She shakes her head. “Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon.” She left, taking Neville with her.

“Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it.” Ron says, bitterly throwing his wand back into his trunk. “Stupid spell. George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.”

“What house are your brothers in?” Harry asks.

“Gryffindor.” Gloominess sets over his features once again. “Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.”

“That's the house Vol-, I mean; You-Know-Who was in?”

“Yeah.” Ron flops back into his seat with a depressed look on his face.

“You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter.” Harry said. I send him a confused look, nothing on that rat had changed. Harry nods towards me.

“Oh yeah.” I say catching onto the change in subject. “Seems like it.”

“So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?”

“Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts.” Ron says. “Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles; someone tried to rob a high security vault.”

“I know.” I say, remembering the article. “Who would be stupid enough to break into that place?”

“What happened to them?” Harry asks, interested.

“Nothing, that's why it's such big news; they haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it.” He sees the look on Harry’s face and changes the subject. “What's your Quidditch team?”

“Er, I don't know any.”

“What!” Ron asks, dumbfounded.

“He grew up in the muggle world, remember?” I remind him.

“Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world.” Ron goes on to explain the game and what broomstick he’d get if he had the money.

Once again the compartment door opened. Three boys entered, a pale boy with his blond hair slicked back standing in-between two thickset boy. “Is it true?” He asks. “They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?”

“Yes.” He answered, looking at the boys standing beside him.

The boy noticed his gaze. “Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle. And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” He introduces himself. Ron coughs but it kind of sound like a chuckle, making the boy glare at him. “Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”

“Watch your mouth.” I tell him.

He looks at me. “And who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am. You shouldn’t talk to people like that; especially when you don’t even know them.”

“So you’re nobody.” He dismisses me and turns back to Harry. “You'll soon find out _some_ wizarding families are much _better_ than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” He holds his hand out.

“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.” He says coolly.

Malfoy’s cheeks tinge pink. “I'd be careful if I were you, Potter.” He says slowly. “Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you.”

We all stand up. “Say that again.” Ron warns him, his face having gone red. My hand twitches towards my wand, going through some of the spells my dad taught me in my head.

“Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?” Malfoy sneered.

“Unless you get out now.” Harry tells him.

“But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.”

Goyle reaches toward the chocolate frogs next to Ron, who leaps forward but before he even touched Goyle the boy let out a horrible yell. Scabbers was hanging off his finger, his sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle. Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window all three of them disappeared from the compartment, having run off to a different section of the train.

Hermione reappears and sees the sweets on the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers. “What has been going on?”

“I think he's been knocked out.” Ron says and takes a closer look at the rat. “No…I don't believe it, he’s gone back to sleep!” He looks at Harry. “You've met Malfoy before?” The spectacled boy explains their meeting in Diagon Alley.

“I've heard of his family.” Ron says darkly. “They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turns to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?”

“You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!” She scolds us.

“Scabbers has been fighting, not us.” Ron scowls at her. “Would you mind leaving while we change?”

“All right.” Hermione answers, a little hurt by his rudeness. “I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors. And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?” She tells him before leaving. Ron glared at her as she left.

“I’m gonna go get changed.” I leave the compartment and jog a little to catch up to Hermione. “Hey!” She turns to me, a look a caution on her face. “I’m sorry about him, he’s just a little riled up after a run in with a jerk.”

“Well you shouldn’t be fighting.”

“Believe me; if you met the kid we were talking to, you’d want to hit him too.”

“Your accent-“

“Is different, I know, I’m from America. My parent moved to England and now I’m going to Hogwarts.”

“Oh. Are you magical born?”

I nod. “I’m a pureblood but my godfather’s a muggleborn so I’m not stuck up like some of the people you are going to meet this year?”

“What do you mean?”

I sigh. “Some people think that their blood status somehow makes them better, more deserving than other witches and wizards. There are purebloods, halfbloods, and muggleborns. Some people look down on others that are like you.”

“Why don’t you?” She asks.

“Because I think that muggles have made amazing things without the use of magic and the wizarding world can stand to learn a few things from them.” I tell her. She smiles at me and I return it. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find a place to change.” I walk away from her.

By the time I make it back to the compartment, I hear the conductors voice. “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately.” The train slowed before finally coming to a stop. Everyone pushes their way towards the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform.

I see something large holding a lantern. “Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?” He asks. Harry smiles and nods at the large man; from his story, this must be Hagrid. “C'mon, follow me; any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!” We follow him down a steep, narrow path. “Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec.” He called over his shoulder. “Jus’ round this bend here.”

“Oooooh!” Kids stare in awe when we arrive at a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

“No more'n four to a boat!”  Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione.

I sit with some other kids and notice a chocolate haired girl with olive tone skin next to me. “Hello.” I greet.

She scans me with her brown eyes before looking ahead. “Hello.” She says curtly. Sensing that she does not wish to speak anymore, I look ahead as well. The fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

“Heads down!” Hagrid yelled as the boats reached the cliff.

We travel through a tunnel before finally arriving at a harbor where we clamber onto rocks and pebbles. I walk back to Harry and Ron.

“Oy, you there! Is this your toad?” Hagrid asks.

“Trevor!” Neville holds out his hands with a relieved smile.

We make our way up the passageway and onto the smooth, damp grass in the shadow of the castle before walking up a flight of steps before crowding around the huge wooden door.

“Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?” Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	3. Sorting

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. By the serious look on her face, I could that she was not someone to cross.

“The firs' years, Professor McGonagall.” Hagrid tells her.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” She pulled the door open wider, revealing a large entrance hall with a high ceiling, a marble staircase, and stone walls lit with flaming torches. We followed her across the floor.

“Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.” She explains. “The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” She eyes Neville, whose cloak was fastened under his left ear, Ron’s smudged nose, and Harry’s unruly hair. “I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly.” She left the chamber.

Harry swallows before turning to Ron. “How exactly do they sort us into houses?”

“Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.” He answers.

Suddenly we hear people scream. I follow their gazes and see ghosts gliding across the room talking to one another. “Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-“

“My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost.” He notices us. “I say, what are you all doing here?” He asks but no one answers.

“New students!” The Fat Friar smiles. “About to be Sorted, I suppose?” A few students nod. “Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know.”

“Move along now.” Our attention is drawn back to Professor McGonagall, who had returned. “The Sorting Ceremony's about to start.” The ghosts float through the wall. “Now, form a line and follow me.”

We all shuffle into a line and she leads us out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. The ceiling was charmed to look like a starry night, thousands of candles floated midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting in front of golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was the teacher’s table.

“It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History.” I hear Hermione explain.

Professor McGonagall places a shabby, old, pointed wizard’s hat on a four legged stool. For a moment, there was complete silence before the hat began to sing:

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

The hall burst into applause at the finish. The hat bowed to each of the four tables and became quiet once again.

“So we've just got to try on the hat!” Ron whispers furiously. “I'll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll.”

Professor McGonagall steps forward, holding a long roll of parchment. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.” She says. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A blushing pigtailed blond stumble out of line and puts on the hat, which fell over her eyes and sat down.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table, the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brocklehurst, Mandy!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brown, Lavender!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Finally my name came up. “Clairborn, Trinity!”

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before walking up the steps and sitting on the stool. Professor McGonagall places the hat on my head.

“Curious…very curious. You’d make a fine Ravenclaw with your keen intellect, but you have the loyalty of a Hufflepuff. You’d go quite a ways in Slytherin, though you might make more enemies than friends. But there’s something…your will and drive to stand for what you believe in. Fine fit for any house I say. Better be…GRYFFINDOR!”

I smile as I stand from the stool and applause sounds through the room. I make my way to the table, accepting high fives and pats on the back from my fellow housemates.

I sit down and nod to the two twins I saw on the train before turning to watch the rest of the sorting ceremony.

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Finnigan, Seamus!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Granger, Hermione!” The bushy haired girl almost ran to the stool and eagerly put the hat on her head.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

I clap as she makes her way over to the table and wave to her, gesturing to the empty spot next to me. She beams and quickly takes her seat.

“Longbottom, Neville!” The plump boy tripped on his way up the steps before making it to the stool. The hat sits on his head for a long time before finally declaring:

“GRYFFINDOR!”

He ran off, not realizing he still had the hat on and had to jog back, causing the students to laugh.

“Malfoy, Draco!” The blond boy swaggered forward when his name was called. The hat barely touched his head before it loudly declared:

“SLYTHERIN!”

Professor McGonagall continued to call out name, now in the P’s.

“Pierce, Katherine!”

The girl I sat next to on the boat gracefully made her way up the steps and sat down cross legged on the stool with a smirk on her face. The hat was placed on her head and within seconds shouted:

“SLYTHERIN!”

My eyes follow her as she walks to her table before I finally return my attention to the ceremony.

“Potter, Harry!” As the dark haired boy step forward, whispers suddenly broke out all over the hall.

“Did she say Harry Potter?”

Harry sat on the stool for a while before the hat finally spoke out loud.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Pretty soon it was Ron’s turn to be called and like the rest of his family, he was placed into Gryffindor. We all clapped loudly as he took a seat next to Harry.

“Well done, Ron, excellent.” Ron’s pompous older brother, Percy congratulated him.

Once the ceremony was over, Professor Dumbledore stood to his feet. “Welcome!” He beamed at his students with his arms spread wide. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

I furrowed my brows in confusion and heard Harry question Percy.

“Is he…a bit mad?” He asked uncertainly.

“Mad?” The Weasley said airily. “He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?”

It was only then that I noticed that the dishes in front of us were now piled with food. Everyone began to dig in eagerly.

“That does look good.” A ghost said sadly, gazing longingly at Harry’s steak.

“Can't you…?”

“I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years. I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've in introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.”

“I know who you are!” Ron says. “My brothers told me about you; you're Nearly Headless Nick!”

“I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-“ The ghost began but Hermione cut him off.

“Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?”

He huffed irritably. “Like this.” He grabbed his left ear and pulled, his whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. We all cringe and look away from the sight. Seeing the stunned looks on our faces, he flipped his head back onto his neck, pleased with himself. “So, new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable; he's the Slytherin ghost.”

We all look over to the Slytherin table and see a horrible ghost sitting down with a dead look in his eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with blood. I smirked at the sight of an even paler Malfoy sitting next to him.

“How did he get covered in blood?” Seamus asks.

“I've never asked.” He said, before floating off.

When everyone had surely stuffed themselves, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before only for deserts to appear in their place.

 _I’m not sure if I’ll be able to eat anymore but I will damn well try to._ I help myself to a slice of apple pie and a jelly filled doughnut.

The talk around the table had turned to our families.

“I'm half-and-half.” Seamus smiled. “Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him.” He says, making us laugh.

“What about you, Neville?” Ron asks.

The boy’s ears turn red as he explains. “Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch, but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me; he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned, but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here, they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad.”

I look at him in concern before turning my attention away; not wanting to think of how many unfortunate events Neville must’ve went through in order to force some accidental magic out of him.

“Trinity’s a pureblood.” Ron nods towards me. “But she grew up in the muggleworld.” The table looks at me in a mixture of confusion and awe.

“Did you really?” Seamus asks.

“Yeah.” I nod.

“Why?”

“My parents enjoy muggle technology and culture.”

“What’s tekologee?” A student asks. I suppress a sigh before I begin to explain.

Percy and Hermione talk about lessons. “I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"

"You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing” He assures her.

Suddenly Harry claps a hand to his forehead. “Ouch!”

I look at him. “What is it?”

“N-nothing.” He looks at the teacher’s table. “Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” He asks Percy.

The boy follows his gaze. “Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to. Everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.”

Soon enough the desserts disappears and Dumbledore stand again. “Ahem.” He clears his throat. “Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” His eyes flash towards the Weasley twins. “I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year; the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Harry laughed but soon noticed that he was one of the only few students that did. He looks back to Percy. “He's not serious?”

“Must be.” He says, frowning at Dumbledore. “It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere. The forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least.”

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” Dumbledore cried. I notice that the other teacher’s smiles stiffen a bit. The wizard flicks his wand making a long golden ribbon fly out of it and rise high above the tables, twisting snakelike, into words. “Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!”

The school began to bellow in different tunes and timing:

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

　　Teach us something please,

　　Whether we be old and bald

　　Or young with scabby knees,

　　Our heads could do with filling

　　With some interesting stuff,

　　For now they're bare and full of air,

　　Dead flies and bits of fluff,

　　So teach us things worth knowing,

　　Bring back what we've forgot,

　　just do your best, we'll do the rest,

　　And learn until our brains all rot.

Dumbledore claps as the song ends. “Ah, music.” He wipes his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now; bedtime. Off you trot!”

I follow the chattering Gryffindors through the halls as Percy leads us through a maze of staircases and to a tower when we suddenly came to a halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of us and as Percy took a step toward them, they started throwing themselves at him. “Peeves.” He whispered. “A poltergeist.” He then raises his voice. “Peeves! Show yourself!” He was answered by a raspberry sound. “Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?”

The poltergeist appeared with a loud pop. “Oooooooh!” He cackled evilly. “Ickle Firsties! What fun!” He swoops towards a few students, making them duck.

“Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!” Percy barked. Peeves sticks out his tongue and vanishes, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head, suits of armor rattling as he zooms away. “You want to watch out for Peeves.” He begins to lead us again. “The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are.”

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. “Password?” She asks.

“Caput Draconis.” With that said, the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. We all scramble in, Neville needing help to get up, and found ourselves in the Gryffindor common room decorated with the house colors and squashy armchairs.

Once we were showed where our dorms will be, I tiredly made my way up the stairs and into a room. I notice that my bed is next to Hermione’s as I dig through my trunk for my pajamas. I blink drowsily as settle into bed.

“Are you excited for class tomorrow?” Hermione asks.

“A little.”

“What are you looking forward to?”

“Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts really. I already get enough Potions and Herbology at home.”

“I can’t wait for tomorrow. Goodnight.” She smiles and closes her eyes.

“Goodnight.” I close my eyes as well and drift off into the world of dreams.


	4. Classes

I made my way around the vast castle and to my classes, mind you with a little trouble due to the changing staircases, the trick doors, and unhelpful ghosts, but I was starting to get the hang of it.

My classes have been going well so far. Thanks to my dad I know a bit about astronomy, which will make _that_ homework easier. Because of both mom and dad, I have a very clear understanding of herbology. Attending History of Magic was the hardest though. Not because it was a difficult subject, but because it was taught by the single most boring entity in the world; Professor Binns. I enjoyed charms with Professor Flitwick, a tiny wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. Why he doesn’t just get a step stool is beyond me.

Professor McGonagall was strict and clever, something she clearly showed as she lectured us during our first class. “Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.” Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. I was excited for a moment before remembering that we won’t be doing anything near that for a long time. We were instructed to change a match into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione and I were able to turn out matches into needles, though mine was a little bit duller than hers. I liked the class but I could do without the huge amounts of homework she gives us.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a bit of a letdown. Professor Quirrell’s room smelled strongly of garlic and when asks why he explained that it was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a ‘thank you’ for getting rid of a troublesome zombie. I personally found the whole thing hard to believe, especially when Seamus began to eagerly question him about the zombie but Quirrell went pink and changed the subject to the weather.

Today we were scheduled for double potions with the Slytherins. I’m not quite sure how I feel about it. Not because of the silly house feud but because I’m curious to how I will be challenge after growing up being the assistant of a potions mistress for a mother.

I sat at the table in the Great Hall with Harry and Ron as they discussed the class.

“Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them; we'll be able to see if it's true.” Ron says.

“Wish McGonagall favored us.” Harry sighs.

Just then, the mail arrived. I’ve promised to update my parents at the end of the week about my classes. I’ve sent the a few short letters over the last few days but they want more details when I have the time to write.

A snow white owl lands in front of Harry, dropping a note onto his plate. Who quickly reads and smiles before grabbing Ron’s quill and writing down a response.

Soon we are in the dungeons, where our potions class was held. Some students were creeped out by the floating animals in glass walls but I’ve seen stranger things in my life.

Professor Snape started the class with a roll call but stopped at Harry’s name. “Ah, yes; Harry Potter. Our new…celebrity.” He looks at him with cold eyes, ignoring the sniggering of Malfoy and his goons. “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making.” He spoke softly. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.” We looked at him in silence and Hermione straightened even more in her seat next to me, eager to prove him wrong. “Potter!” He snapped suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” I frown at him, wondering why he would ask a first year such an advanced question before holding my hand up, Hermione’s hand shoots up as well.

“I don't know, sir.” Harry answers in a quiet voice.

“Tut, tut…fame clearly isn't everything.” He ignores me and Hermione’s hands. “Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?” Hermione stretches further in her seat and I calmly keep my hand up. _He wants to humiliate him._ I think bitterly.

“I don't know, sir.”

“Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?”

“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Having enough of being ignored and watching my friend be bullied by and grown man, I speak out of turn. “Professor, the answer to the first question is The Draught of Living Death. You find a bezoar in a goats stomach and can save you from most poisons, and your last query is a trick question as there is no difference between monkshood and wolfsbane because they are the same plant and is also known as Aconite. Though I am curious as to why you’re asking these question because this is a first year class and we don’t begin learn about any of those until our sixth year. The information to your questions aren’t _in_ the books we have.”

Never in my life have I had such a glare directed at me, full of such fury and contempt. Snape looked down his nose at me while my class mates, both Gryffindor and Slytherin looking at me in shock. Snape looks to the rest of the class. “Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?” Students rummage for quills and parchment. Snape looks back to me. “Ten points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn Clairborn.” He sneered at me before turning and walking to his desk.

I clench my jaw and look away from him, catching the gaze of Katherine Pierce, who looks at me with an impressed look on her face. Harry sent me a grateful nod while Hermione huffed in her seat next to me at the fact that I just lost ten points from Gryffindor.

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He completely ignored that my potion was better than Malfoy’s though. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

“Idiot boy!” Snape snarled, clearing the spilled potion away with a wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?” Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. “Take him up to the hospital wing!” He spat at Seamus before rounding on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville. “You, Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That’s another point from Gryffindor.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue but Ron kicked him. “Don’t push it.” He warned. “I've heard Snape can turn very nasty.”

I walk up the steps and out of the dungeons with Harry and Ron.

“Thanks Trinity.” Harry tries to smile, but only manages to form a grimace.

“Cheer up.” Ron says. “Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?”

“Me too.” I ask.

Later on the three of us left the castle and made our way across the grounds and to Hagrid’s small hut on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door. Harry knocked on the door and we heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. “Back, Fang! Back!” We hear Hagrid yell before his hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open. “Hang on.” He said. “Back, Fang!” He let us in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

He lived in a single room hut, hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, and copper kettle was boiling on the open fire. I notice a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it in the corner of the room. “Make yerselves at home.” He said, letting go of Fang, who bounds straight to Ron and begins licking his ears.

“This is Ron and Trinity.” Harry introduced us as Hagrid poured boiling water into a large teapot and put rock cakes onto a plate.

“Another Weasley, eh?” He glances at Ron’s freckles. “I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest.”

I try a rock cake with trepidation, and suppress a cringe at the taste of the hard, shapeless lump, but pretend to enjoy it in order to be polite.

We told Hagrid about our lessons and grin when he called Filch ‘an old git’. I’m still getting used to the slang here but it’s still fun to know that an adult dislikes the caretaker as much as we do. “An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her; Filch puts her up to it.”

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students, though made it known that he might like me a little less for my outburst in class.

“But he seemed to really hate me.” Harry says.

“Rubbish! Why should he?” Hagrid tells him, but doesn’t quite meet Harry’s eyes when he says it. He turns to Ron, changing the subject. “How's yer brother Charlie? I liked him a lot; great with animals.”

I join the conversation, telling him of my father and his work with magical creatures.

Suddenly, Harry speaks up. “Hagrid! That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!” After that, it became clear that he was keeping something from Harry as he grunted and offered him another rock cake.

With dinner starting soon, we made our way to the castle with rock cakes weighing down in our pockets as we were too polite to refuse them. I break away from Harry and Ron before entering the hall, telling them that I would meet them after going to the restroom.

I’m washing my hands and jump when a voice rings through the room.

“That was pretty impressive, calling out Snape like that.” Katherine Pierce leans against a stall with a smirk on her face.

“He was trying to embarrass my friend by asking questions that he knew Harry didn’t know.”

“Still, most students are afraid of him, and you don’t strike me as the type to speak out against a teacher.”

“I wasn’t aware that you’ve taken such an interest in me.” I dry my hands.

She shrugs. “It’s not often that someone catches my eye. There’s just something about you…” She straightens up and steps forward, holding out her hand. “I’m Katherine Pierce.”

I take her hand and shake it. “Trinity Clairborn.”

“Half-blood?”

“Pureblood.” I correct. “Not that it matters. Hermione knew the answer as well and she’s a muggleborn.”

“Yes, I noticed how…eager that one is.”

I drop her hand. “It was nice meeting you but I should be getting to dinner. My friends are waiting.” I walk past her.

“See you later.” She sings.

I pause for a moment before shaking my head and continuing on.


	5. Taking Flight

Everyone was excited for the upcoming flying lessons. There were those who’ve never flown before and were eager to learn and other, like me, who couldn’t wait to be back on a broomstick. Everyone was sharing stories about their times on brooms during breakfast. The only downside was the Malfoy wouldn’t shut up with his complaining of first years not being allowed on the Quidditch teams and false tales of narrowly avoiding muggle helicopters. Neville and Hermione seemed nervous though. Hermione, ever the studious student, has been reading Quidditch through the Ages to learn tips and telling anyone who would listen, Neville hanging onto each word.

A barn owl dropped a package in front of Neville. He opened it excitedly and showed us a glass ball the size of a paper weight, which seemed to be full of white smoke. “It's a Remembrall!” He smiles. “Gran knows I forget things; his tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red…oh…” His face falls as the Remembrall turns scarlet.

“You've forgotten something.” I tell him.

Just then Malfoy, who was passing by, snatched it out of his hand. Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, eager for a reason to fight the blond but Professor McGonagall was there in a flash.

“What's going on?” She asks sternly.

“Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor.” Neville tells her.

Scowling, Malfoy quickly drops the Remembrall back on the table. “Just looking.” He mutters before sloping away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

Later that day, we all stood outside on the lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, Gryffindor’s facing the Slytherins with broomsticks lying on the ground.

Our teacher, Madam Hooch arrived, her hair was short and grey with eyes like a hawk. “Well, what are you all waiting for?” She barked. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”

I look down at my broom and hold in a groan at the site of the old thing with twigs sticking out of it, wanting nothing more than to feel the smooth wood of my Nimbus 1700 in my hands.

“Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!”

“UP!” Everyone shouted. My broom jumped to into my hand at once, as did Harry’s and a few others. Unfortunately Hermione’s simply rolled around on the ground and Neville’s didn’t move at all.

Madam Hooch then went on to show the class how to mount their brooms and I didn’t even _try_ to hold in my laughter when she told Malfoy that he’d been doing it wrong for years. “Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, _hard_.” She instructed. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle…three…two…” Neville nervously jumped up before she was able to blow the whistle. “Come back, boy!” She shouted. I watched in concern as Neville’s whizzed away, his broom moving around frantically as he struggled to keep a grip on it. I gasp as he slips sideways off the broom and lands on the ground face down, with a loud thud and a crack; his broom drifts into the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch bends over Neville. “Broken wrist.” She tuts. “Come on, boy; it's all right, up you get.” She wraps an arm around the crying boy and turns to the class. “None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear.” She leads him away.

As soon as they were out of earshot Malfoy burst out laughing. “Did you see his face, the great lump?” The other Slytherin’s chuckle as well. Katherine leans against her broom with a bored look on her face.

“Shut up, Malfoy!” Parvati snapped at him.

“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” Pansy ‘Pug Face’ Parkinson asked. “Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati.”

“Look!” Malfoy darts forward and snatches something out of the grass. “It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him.” He holds up the Remembrall for all to see.

“Give that here, Malfoy.” Harry said quietly. Everyone stopped talking, their eyes bouncing back and forth between the two.

Malfoy smiled nastily. “I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about…up a tree?”

“Give it here!” Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off, flying to one of the highest branches of a tree.

“Come and get it, Potter!” The blond baited him.

Harry glares at him and mounts his broom.

“No!” Hermione shouts. “Madam Hooch told us not to move. You’ll get us all into trouble.”

Harry ignores her and flies off after Malfoy. The two exchange some words before Malfoy throws the Remembrall far away, Harry chasing after it.

I quickly mount my broom and take off as Malfoy goes to pursue Harry, blocking the blond haired boy from getting to him.

“Move!” He shouts and tries to go around me but I continue to maneuver in the air, blocking all his attempts. He tries to knock me off my but I expertly swing my body upside down before returning to my proper place. He glares at me furiously, his attention taken off of Harry.

I fly away, making him chase after me. I catch a glimpse of Harry with the Remembrall in his hand and smirk. “Looks like you lose Malfoy.” I fly in a few circles around him as he gives up and lands. I smile in triumph and show off a few more maneuvers.

“HARRY POTTER! TRINITY CLAIRBORN!” A voice yells. My heart drops to my stomach at the sight of Professor McGonagall. I quickly fly towards the ground before landing.

“It wasn't their fault, Professor-“

“Be quiet, Miss Patil.”

“But Malfoy-“ Ron tries to defend us.

“That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, Clairborn, follow me, _now_.”

My heart pounds in my chest as Harry and I follow after her. _Oh merlin, what am I going to do. I’m dead. Mom and dad are going to kill me._ While I was contemplating all the things I haven’t had the chance to do in my short eleven years of life, Professor McGonagall led us to a class room.

She opened the door and poked her head inside. “Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?” She asks. A moment later a burly fifth-year steps out with of the class with a confused look on his face. “Follow me, you three.” She led us down the corridor. “In here.” She pointed us into an empty classroom. Well…almost empty. Peeves was in there writing rude words on the blackboard. “Out, Peeves!” She ordered. Once he had left she turned to us.

“Potter, Clairborn, this is Oliver Wood. Wood; I've found you a Seeker and a Chaser.” She says, making my eyes widen in shock.

Wood’s face lights up at the news. “Are you serious, Professor?”

“Absolutely.” She says crisply. “The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?” Harry nods. “And you Ms. Clairborn?”

“I have one at home.” I say.

She nods and moves on. “He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive. Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it.” Wood’s eyes light up at the news. “The brooms the first years use for flying class aren’t anything special, but Ms. Clairborn was able to move around like it was a top of the line broomstick.

“Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” Wood asks, an excited smile on his face.

“Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team.” Professor McGonagall explains, seeing the confused look on Harry’s face.

“He's just the build for a Seeker to.” Wood circles around Harry. “Light, speedy; we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor; a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say.” He looks at me. “Same for her.”

“I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year.” She shakes her head. “Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks.” She turns towards us with a stern look on her face. “I want to hear that you two are training hard, or I may change my mind about punishing you.” She smiles at Harry. “Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself.”

At dinner, Ron looks at us with wide eyes. “You're joking. Seeker and Chaser? But first years never…you must be the youngest house players in about a century.”

“Harry’s the youngest.” I say. “I’m older than him.”

“We start training next week. Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.” Harry says.

Suddenly, Fred and George appear next to us. “Well done.” George says. “Wood told us. We're on the team too; Beaters.”

“I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year.” Fred smiles. “We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You two must be good, Wood was almost skipping when he told us.”

“Anyway, we've got to go; Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school.”

“Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you.”

And just as quick as they appeared, they were gone. Just then Malfoy show up, flanked by the two idiots. “Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?” He looks over to me. “How about you Clairborn? I bet you’ve been crying your eyes out. Parents get a nice letter about you?”

“You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you.” Harry says coolly.

“I'd take you on anytime on my own. Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only, no contact.” Malfoy says, only for Harry to send him a blank look. “What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?”

“Of course he has.” Ron jumps in. “I'm his second, who's yours?”

Malfoy looks between his goons. “Crabbe.” He looks back to us. “Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked.” He says before walking away, his lackeys following after him.

The second he’s gone, Harry turns towards me and Ron. What is a wizard's duel? And what do you mean, you're my second?”

“Well, a second's there to take over if you die.” Ron casually explains. “But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.”

“And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?”

“Throw it away and punch him on the nose.”

“Guys, come on. It’s _Malfoy_. Do you really expect him to show up? People like him are all talk.” I tell them.

Suddenly I hear Hermione’s voice. “Excuse me.” I look up and see her standing above us.

“Can't a person eat in peace in this place?” Ron says only to be ignored.

“I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying-“

“Bet you couldn’t.” Ron mutters.

“-and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you.”

“And it's really none of your business.” Harry tells her.

“Goodbye.” Ron dismisses her.

She shakes her head and walks away. I look at the two boys. “Really? Y’know you guys could be nicer to her.” I say before getting up and following after the girl.

“Hey!” I catch up to her as she storms out of the Great Hall. “Don’t take anything they say too hard. They’re just boys; they say stupid stuff and do stupid things.”

“They’re going to get Gryffindor into trouble.” She replies.

“Only if they get caught.” I argue. “And really, do you think it’d be so bad for a couple of first years to get caught out of bed at night? It probably happens all the time. They could just say that they lost track of time studying for astrology or something.”

“So not only do you approve of them breaking the rules, but you actually advise that they lie to a professor?”

“One; I never said that I approve, but I know nothing I say is going to change their minds so why should I waste my time trying to talk them out of it? Two: What do you expect them to say if they get caught? They’ll be in even more trouble for not only being out of bed, but fighting as well. It’s best to just let this play out.” I explain. Hermione huffed and increased her pace, leaving me behind. My feet come to a halt and I stare after her, releasing a tired sigh.

“Well she doesn’t look very happy.”

I turn towards the voice and see Katherine sitting on a windowsill, her legs propped in front of her as she leans against the wall.

“Why aren’t you at dinner?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I enjoy some alone time every now and then when the chatter amongst my housemates grow terribly dull.”

“So you prefer to hide in the hallways and chat with your house rivals?” Sarcasm drips from my voice.

She smirks. “People talk about very interesting things when they think that they’re alone.”

I frown. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that I don’t find your friends little midnight escapades as near as interesting than what happened this afternoon.” She breezed before sitting up and narrowing her eyes. “What I want to know is why you’re walking around without a care in the world and apparently already planning for even _more_ mischief. McGonagall is a strict woman and unlike my head of house, does not show favoritism. You’ve obviously haven’t been expelled but it seems that you haven’t been punished either.”

I look at her in suspicion. “Why do you care?”

“I’m not fond of secrets…well, at least the one’s that intrigue me or might be of use.” She tilts her head. “I can see why she kept four-eyes, he’s ‘The Boy Who Lived’ and all.” She scoffs. “Imagine the field day the Prophet would have if news that their hero had been expelled from school for a little flying incident. But you…I know your name has some clout but you’re still fairly new to Britain. It’s still not as well-known as it is in America. It’s growing but it’s still making its way around Europe.”

“How do you know so much about me?”

“You know some purebloods like to keep track of each other in case they ever wanted to do ‘business’.” Her jaw clenched at the last word. “My father was one of them. It’s a habit I never got rid of.” She shrugs. “That and I like to keep myself informed.”

I know what she meant by the word ‘business’. There are families that like to arrange marriage contracts with each other. Some do it for the financial gain that comes with the marriage while others do it in hopes of keeping their bloodline pure. My parents received a few betrothal offers after I was born but they quickly shot down the hopeful families by declaring that they would not force a marriage on me. Though members of my family have entered a marriage of convenience before, it has always been their _own_ choice to do so, and only after they reached the age of maturity were they allowed to decide.

I’m broken out of my thoughts by Katherine speaking again. “So tell me what happened.”

I cross my arms and level a blank stare at her. “Professor McGonagall spoke to us and I now have more responsibilities on my plate.”

Katherine waits for me to continue but quickly realizes that I don’t plan to elaborate. “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

I shrug my shoulders. “That’s all I’m willing to share.” Katherine releases a frustrated sigh and looks at me with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. “Now if you don’t mind- and I actually don’t if you do or not- I’m going to my common room.” I turn and continue on my way, holding in a smile and not once looking back at a face that I _know_ must be clouded in confusion. _You’re not the only one who can be mysterious._ I think to myself.

I feign sleep in my bed and continue to lie still at the sound of a rustle. Soon enough I’m able to check the time once again before quietly getting up, putting on a robe and slipping my wand into the pocket. I glance and the sleeping faces of my dorm mates and hold in a sigh at the sight of an empty bed. _Oh well._ I slowly tip toe out the room and down the stairs, seeing Harry and Ron waiting at the bottom.

“Took you long enough!” Ron hissed and began walking towards the portrait hole. “Come on or else we’ll be late!”

I follow after them and open my mouth to tell them about Hermione only to be interrupted by the girl herself as a lamp flickered on. Pink clothed girl frowns at us. “I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry, Trinity.”

“You!” Ron whispers furiously. “Go back to bed!”

“I almost told your brother!” She snaps. “Percy; he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this.”

I hold a hand to my head to fight off the headache that is bound to come. Harry and Ron stare at her in disbelief. The black haired boy turns to me and run. “Come on.” He brushes past Hermione and pushes the portrait open before climbing through.

Shake my head at Hermione as I pass her, hoping to indicate that she won’t be able to stop us and the best thing for her to do will be going back to bed. I’m only half surprised that she follows us out. _Well, you can’t say that she’s not persistent._

“Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” She hisses.

“Go away!” Ron grits out. I honestly hope she leaves, but only because we’ll definitely get caught with the two of them bickering.

Hermione huffs. “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so-“ she turns around only to be met by an empty portrait. Horror dawn on her face as she realized that she was now locked out of the tower without The Fat Lady there to let her in. “Now what am I going to do?!”

“That's your problem.” Ron tells her before looking at me and Harry. “We've got to go; we’re going to be late.”

Hermione catches up with us before we even reach the end of the corridor. “I'm coming with you.”

“You are not.” The redhead says.

I roll my eyes. _These two are definitely going to get us caught._ I go through possible scenarios in my head, trying to find a reason for four students from the same house to be out together after curfew. _I’m pretty sure I can work up some fake tears. Maybe I can say that I’m feeling homesick and couldn’t sleep. Hermione, being the caring girl that she is recommended a sleeping draught and offered to walk with me to the infirmary. Harry and Ron…they were up late finishing homework and didn’t mind accompanying us._ This of course, will only work if we run into someone nice and fairly lenient. But if we were to run into Filch or worse _Snape_ , then we won’t even get a chance to explain before being stuck in detention and threatened with expulsion.

“D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all four of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up.” Hermione says.

“You've got some nerve-“ Ron says loudly. I cringe at the volume of his voice. _We’re definitely getting caught._

“Shut up, both of you!” Harry says sharply. “I heard something.”

I keep my eyes peeled and listen for the sound. A moment later I hear snuffling, bringing my gaze to the shadows.

“Mrs. Norris?” Ron squints.

Turns out that is was Neville, who jerks awake from his curled position on the floor at the sound of our footsteps. “Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours; I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed.” He explains.

I inwardly grin. This I could work with. _We were on our way to the infirmary for a sleeping draught and found poor, forgetful, Neville stuck outside._ Anyone with a heart would pity us enough to let us off with a warning about being out of bed after curfew. “Keep your voice down, Neville.” I whisper. “The new password is ‘Pig Snout’ but you won’t be able to get in right now because The Fat Lady has left. You’ll have to wait a little longer to get back in.”

“How's your arm?” Harry asks.

“Fine.” Neville holds up his healed wrist. “Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute.”

“Good.” Harry nods. “Well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later-“

The boy scrambles to his feet. “Don't leave me! I don't want to stay here alone; the Bloody Baron's been past twice already.” He says fearfully.

Ron checks his watch before glaring at Neville and Hermione. “If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you.”

Hermione opens her mouth but I shush her and shoot her a look, silently warning her not to start another argument. We walk along the corridors, our shadows dancing in the moonlight, hearts racing as we keep a close eye out for Filch at the turn of every corner.

We quickly make our way up the third floor staircase and toward the trophy room. Surprise, _surprise_ , Malfoy and his goons weren’t here yet and I doubt that they’ll ever show up. The day Malfoy fights his own battles will be the day that purebloods praise muggles for their genius. We stuck to the walls and Harry pulls his wand out as her scans the room, constantly checking the other doorway.

“He's late, maybe he's chickened out.” Ron whispers.

We jump at the sound of a crackly voice. “Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.” We all share a look of terror at the realization of Filch being close by and silently race towards the door. Neville barely makes it around the corner before we hear Filch’s echo through the room. “They're in here somewhere.” He mutters. “Probably hiding.”

‘This way!’ Harry mouths and leads us down a long gallery full of suits of armor. We hear the caretakers footsteps grow closer and Neville squeaks and breaks into a run, only to trip and desperately grabs onto Ron in an attempt to catch himself but only succeeds in bringing them both down, falling right into a suit of armor. The clangs and crashes ring through the room. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole castle heard the commotion. “RUN!” Harry yells.

With no hesitation, we sprint away, and don’t look back, not knowing or caring what direction we went in as long as it was far away from Filch. The muscles in my legs pump as we blindly run through a hidden passageway and exit, finding ourselves near the Charms classroom, which is far away from the trophy room.

“I think we've lost him.” Harry pants, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead.

I see Neville bent over and wheezing. “You have to stand up straight.” I pant as well, but not as hard as the others since I’m used to physical activity due to a very active and slightly paranoid family member of mine who’s put me through worse. “Stand up and put your hands on top of your head, you’ll be able to breathe easier.”

“O-o-kay.” He splutters out before following my instructions.

“I…told…you!” Hermione gasps, clutching at her chest before following my instructions as well. “I…told you.” She says a bit easier.

“Now’s not the time Hermione!” I bite out, in no mood for any righteous lecture whatsoever.

“We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower as quickly as possible.” Ron says.

Hermione keeps her gaze on Harry. “Malfoy tricked you. You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you. Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.”

Harry knew she was right but his pride will never let admit it. “Let's go.” He says, but before we can even make our way out of the corridor, Peeves shoots out, squealing in delight. “Shut up, Peeves, please, you'll get us thrown out.”

The poltergeist continues to cackle. “Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty.”

“Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please.”

“Should tell Filch, I should.” He sings with a wicked glint in his eyes. “It's for your own good, you know.”

“Get out of the way!” Ron snaps.

“Ron, no!” I warn, but too late as the redhead swipes at Peeves.

The poltergeist dodges away and glares at him in fury before opening his mouth. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” He bellows. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!”

We duck under the prankster and rush towards the end of the corridor, slamming into a door. In our panic, we seem to forget that there is such a thing as magic as we push and tug helplessly at the locked door. “This is it!” Ron moans. “We're done for! This is the end!”

Fast, heavy footsteps sound through the halls, moving closer and closer to Peeves’s shouts.

“Oh, move over!” Hermione snarls, snatching Harry’s wand out of his hand and taps the lock. “ _Alohomora!_ ” The lock clicked and the door swung open. We pile in as quickly as we can before shutting door and pressing our ears against it, listening for Filch.

 _“Which way did they go, Peeves?”_ Filch asks. _“Quick, tell me!”_ He practically barks.

 _“Say ‘please’.”_ The poltergeist taunts him.

_“Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?”_

_“Shan't say nothing if you don't say please.”_ He sings.

_“All right…please.”_

_“NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!”_ We hear the whoosh of Peeve’s flying away; the only sound left in the corridor is Filch’s cursing.

I sigh in relief and take a deep breath, my nose wrinkling at the smell of the room. I turn around and my eyes widen in horror and stand as still as possible. _Please let me be dreaming. Please let this whole night be one big terrible dream. Please don’t let that be what I think it is._ _Please don’t let that be a Cerberus._ I wrack my brain for more information but being too scared to focus only come up with a blank. I make sure not to look directly into its eyes and nudge Neville, who looks at me, then follows my gaze and whimpers at the sight, not moving his eyes away as he begins tugging at Harry’s robe.

“He thinks this door is locked.” Harry whispers, not moving away from the door. “I think we'll be okay.” He shrugs Neville’s hands off. “Get off Neville!” He turns around and meets the eyes of a giant three headed dog, their noses twitching, and heavy drool leaking from their mouths as they bare their teeth. Ron and Hermione turn at the sound of the monstrous growl it releases. Harry presses himself against the door and gropes for the doorknob before finally pulling it open. We all fall out of the room just as it lunges for us and quickly rush to close the door, grunting and pushing against the beast before succeeding in shutting the door, the lock clicking back into place.

We run, practically fly through the halls and back to Gryffindor tower, taking no care to quiet our footsteps or our breathing. Getting caught for being out of bed is a lot better than dying.

The Fat Lady looks at us in shock as we appear in front of her on the step in disheveled pajamas, sweaty, and out of breath. “Where on earth have you all been?”

“Never mind that.” Harry pants. “P-pig Snout. Pig Snout.” He says. The portrait swings open and we scramble into the common room, collapsing into the armchairs, still trembling in fear, slightly traumatized by our near death experience.

After a while of sitting in a frozen silence, Ron speaks up. “What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?  If any dog needs exercise, that one does. ”

“You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?” Hermione snaps at him angrily. “Didn't you see what it was standing on?”

“The floor?” Harry asks. “I wasn't looking at its feet; I was too busy with its heads.”

“It was standing on a trapdoor.” I tell him.

Hermione nods. “It's obviously guarding something.” She says before standing up and glaring at us. “I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed, or worse; _expelled_. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed.” She turns and storms up the stairs.

Ron stares after her, his mouth open. “No, we don't mind.” He turns to us. “You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?”

After bidding the boys a goodnight I return the my bed, tossing and turning through the rest of the night as the Cerberus invades my dreams and thoughts of my uselessness during the entire night plague me.


	6. Halloween

Despite everything that happened last night, the look on Malfoy's face when we showed up for breakfast the next day was hilarious. It _almost_ made the whole trauma worth it. Harry and Ron quickly got over it and considered the whole thing an excellent adventure. While I admit that I now have _quite_ the story to tell my kids when I grow up, I'd be very glad if I don't have to go something like that _ever_ again.

On the other hand, I'm also receiving the silent treatment from Hermione as are Harry and Ron, who couldn't be happier that the bushy haired girl was ignoring them. Neville wasn't quite fond of remembering the events of last night either. He and Hermione weren't even _slightly_ interested in what the Cerberus was guarding when Harry filled us in about the package that may've been moved from Gringotts to the school.

"It's either really _valuable_ or really _dangerous_." Ron says.

"Or both." Harry tells them.

"Because where better to hide a highly valuable and dangerous object, than a school full of children." I say sarcastically.

* * *

 

For the next week, Harry and Ron spent their time brainstorming ways to get back at Malfoy. Turns out that they didn't have to do anything at all. We were sitting in the Great Hall when the mail came in, everyone's eyes following an owl and a black eagle carrying large, long parcels in their claws, dropping them in front of Harry and I. Seconds later two more owls dropped letters in front of us. Harry tears his letter open and reads it before showing it to me.

_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE._

_It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. I'm aware that Ms. Clairborn received her broom as well. Oliver Wood will meet you two tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session._

_Professor McGonagall_

I nod and open my letter.

_Dear Trinity,_

_I heard the good news from your parents. You won't believe how proud I am. Consider this an apology gift for not being able to see you off for your first year at Hogwarts. Your parents send their love._

_Love,_

_Aunt Raven_

Ron reads Harry's letter. "A Nimbus Two Thousand!" He moans enviously. "I've never even touched one."

We quickly leave the Great Hall, wanting to unwrap our brooms before class starts but only to find the stairs in the entrance hall being blocked by Malfoy and his lackeys. Malfoy snatches the package from Harry's hand. Goyle reaches for mine but I pull it out of his reach and glare at him with murder in my eyes.

Malfoy feels the package. "That's a broomstick." He throws it back to Harry, his face fighting between jealousy and spite. "You'll be in for it this time, _Potter_ , _Clairborn_." He spits out. "First years aren't allowed them."

"They're not any old broomsticks." Ron boasts. "They're Nimbus Two Thousands. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" He grins at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

Malfoy glares at him. "What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle. I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Ron's face turns red but before he could respond, Professor Flitwick approaches us, stopping near Malfoy. "Not arguing, I hope, boys?" He asks and I clear my throat. "And girl." He adds on.

"Potter and Clairborn's been sent broomsticks, Professor." Malfoy tells him, his eyes gleaming at the thought of us in trouble. To his surprise Flitwick beams at us.

"Yes, yes, that's right. Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Mr. Potter, Ms. Clairborn. And what model is it?"

"Nimbus Two Thousands, sir." I smile at him.

"And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that we've got them." Harry adds, holding in his laughter at the look of horror and rage on the blonds face. We leave them behind and hold in our laughter until we make it to the top of the stairs. "Well, it's true." He chortled. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team."

"And if he hadn't tried to be dirty jerk and stop you from getting it, I wouldn't be on the team either."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" A familiar voice asks. We turn around and see an angry Hermione stumping up the stairs, staring at our brooms in disapproval.

"Hermione…" I sigh.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" Harry asks.

"Yes, don't stop now." Ron says. "It's doing us so much good."

The bushy haired girl marches off with her nose in the air.

* * *

 

I spend the rest of the day, counting the seconds until lessons are over. When it begins to near seven o'clock, I rush up to my room to retrieve my broom. Anastasia lazily swishes her tail from her spot on my bed.

"Where have you been girl?" I scratch her behind the ears, making the feline purr. "I'll be back soon. Don't be a bother to the others, and stay away from Ron's rat. I know it's in your nature, but he'll be mad if you eat Scabbers." I quickly make my way out of the dorm and meet Harry at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ready?" The boy asks.

"Of course." I smile. The two of us head to the Quidditch pitch as quickly as possible, quickly taking the sky and racing around each other.

"Hey, Potter, Clairborn, come down!" Oliver calls, carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his other hand occupied with his broomstick. He grins as we smoothly land next to him. "Very nice," his eyes glint. "I see what McGonagall meant…you really are a natural." He turns to me. "I hear you come from a magical family. I assume you played before?"

"Just for fun," I shrug. "Usually at family get-together's and stuff. But I follow the sport."

"You favor a team?"

"When it comes to America; the Fitchburg Finches, but the Tutshill Tornados have been getting better. Overall I'm a Holyhead Harpies fan. Y'know, girl power and all that."

He chuckles with an impressed look on his face. "You know your stuff." He shakes his finger. "I like you." He turns to Harry. "Since you're new to all of this, I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening; then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

He opens the crates, revealing the Quaffle, the Bludgers, and the Golden Snitch. "Right, now Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers, which is the position Clairborn will be playing." He takes out the Quaffle.

"Three Chasers." Harry repeats.

"This ball's called the Quaffle. The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"It's like basketball." I tell Harry, who nods in understanding.

"What's basketball?" Wood asks curiously.

I shake my head. "Never mind," I tell him, not wanting to stray off topic.

Wood nods and continues. "Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper. I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," Harry repeats, committing the information to memory. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that." He points to a Bludger. "So what are they for?"

"I'll show you now," Wood picks up a club and hands it to Harry. "Take this." He hands me the other one. "You should have a go as well." He looks at Harry. "I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do." He shows him the black balls struggling to get out of their straps. "Stand back." He warns us before freeing one of the Bludgers. Immediately the ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it to protect himself, sending it zigzagging away into the air before making its way back around.

I step forward. "I got this." I bring my arm back, quickly meeting the Bludger with a crack and sending it flying.

Wood hums. "You'd make a fair Beater Clairborn." The Bludger zoomed around us and shoots towards him. Wood dives on top of it and pins it to the ground. "See?" He pants, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team -the Weasley twins are ours- it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So, think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team." Harry rattles off.

"Very good."

"Er…have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asks, trying to seem nonchalant.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers unless they crack my head open." He sees the apprehensive look on Harry's face. "Don't worry; the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers." He chuckles. "I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

"Plus, this is the magical world Harry. Healing a few broken bones and head wounds are easy as pie to our healers." I reassure him.

Wood reaches into the crate and takes out the Snitch. "This," he holds it up. "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages."

I nod in agreement. "I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep."

"Well, that's it. Any questions?" He asks Harry, who shakes his head. "We won't practice with the Snitch yet," Wood secures it inside the crate. "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these." He pulls out a bag of golf balls. "I want you to try to catch these. Me and Clairborn here will be throwing them." He looks at me. "After that, I'll be up in goal post. I want you to try and get the Quaffle pass me with Harry trying to take it away from you."

Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. He clicks his tongue. "Now it's your turn." He picks up the Quaffle and tosses it to me. "We only have a few minutes before dark, so try to do what you can." He mounts his broom and takes off towards the goals. "Harry, try to keep her away!" He calls.

I quickly push off the ground, smoothly maneuvering around Harry and racing towards Wood. The first few tries are blocked, but that's mostly due to Wood's skill as a Keeper. His eyes shine when I manage to get a couple goals though, and Harry can't touch me. Pretty soon the sky is truly dark and we couldn't continue.

"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year!" Wood tells us as we trudge back to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons. And Clairborn, I'd love to see you with the team. You're really something else when you're in the sky."

* * *

 

As I settle into bed that night, my attention is caught by a tapping at the window. Anastasia lets out a meow from her spot by my head. A smooth golden owl waits outside. I stand up and walk over to it, my feet making a light patter on the cold floor. I open the window and let him in. "What are you doing here Apollo?" He drops a package and I readily catch it before it hits the floor. I look at my sleeping housemates and decide to go to the common room. Apollo hops onto my shoulder as I quietly open the door and head downstairs.

I take a seat near the fire and Apollo flutters onto the armrest of the chair. I tear the parcel away, revealing a thick book with a letter resting on top of hit. "You carried this heavy thing all the way here boy?" Apollo hoots and puffs his chest out in pride. I stroke his feathers once again and he affectionately nips my fingers. I turn my attention back to the letter and open it.

_Dear Trinity,_

_I saw that you had a little trouble this year –don't worry, I didn't tell Raven- I thought this would be able to help you for the times to come. It's an old volume of mine that Raven added helpful notes to after studying it. Know that you can accomplish anything if you put your mind to it. Use it well._

_With love,_

_Aunt Irene_

I set the letter aside and flip through the book, seeing the pages focusing on meditation and my aunt's handwriting filling almost every blank space there is, finding individual pieces of paper tucked away into the book as well. My eyes scan the book in wonder. _This is a guide to becoming an animagus._

I turn to Apollo. "I don't want you out flying this late. Why don't you head up to the owlery and I'll have a response to send in the morning. I'll even bring you some treats before you leave." Apollo softly hoots and hops onto my arm. I stand and open a window. "Goodnight boy." The owl takes off into the night.

I gather up my things and return to the dorm, too tired to search through the book anymore.

* * *

 

Time seems to pass quickly between classes, studying, reading my new book, and Quidditch practice. Next thing I know, I'm sitting next to Harry on Halloween morning as Professor Flitwick explained our next task in charms. We will begin to learn a levitation charm.

"Lucky we got paired together." Harry says.

I nod in agreement. "We're bound to do better than Seamus and Neville." I eye the accident prone boys. Ron, however, was paired with Hermione. It was difficult to tell who was more displeased with the situation. While I didn't speak to the bookworm very much before, ever since Harry and I received our brooms, she's made an effort to ignore me.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too –never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

I carefully practiced the wand movement, silently mouthing the words, familiarizing them on my tongue. The rest of the class showed their trouble with the spell. Seamus set his feather on fire, which a panicked Neville put out with his hat.

Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Hermione snaps, dodging away from him. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

The bushy haired girl huffs and rolls up the sleeves of her gown. She flicks her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Her feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Class continues on and by the end I was able to accomplish the charm by the end of it.

Harry and I follow after Ron as he pushes his way into the crowded corridor. "It's no wonder no one can stand her," the red head vents as when we catch up to him. "she's a nightmare, honestly."

I stumble as someone knocks into me as they hurry past. It was Hermione, tears running down her face.

"I think she heard you." Harry says.

"So?" Ron answers, looking a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

"But there's no need to be an ass Ron." I scold him. "And even if we're not on the best terms right now, I consider her a friend." I wanted to go after the girl, but had another class to get to.

* * *

 

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On our way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, I heard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron still looked awkward after I told him the news with disapproval clear on my face, only to be wiped away a moment later when we entered the Great Hall, staring at the Halloween decorations in awe.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

We were tucking into our meals when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll…in the dungeons…thought you ought to know." He collapses to the floor in a dead feint.

The students in the Great Hall tremble in their uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence. "Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy immediately stood up, clearly in his element. "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asks as we climb the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

"But what would a troll be doing near the school in the first place?" I ask. "This isn't their usual habitat." I stop dead in my tracks as something occurs to me. "Oh no."

The boys turn to look at me. "What?" Ron asks.

"Hermione."

"What about her?"

"She's been in the bathroom all day, she doesn't know about the troll."

Ron bit his lip. "Oh, all right," he snaps. "But Percy'd better not see us."

Ducking down, we joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. We had just turned the corner when we heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" Ron hissed, pulling me and Harry behind a large stone griffin. We carefully peered around it, only to find that it was Snape crossing the corridor before disappearing from view.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispers. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

Ron shrugs. "Search me."

We quietly creep along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Harry says.

I hold up my hand to him before he can say anymore. "Can you smell something?"

The boys sniff and their faces scrunch as the stench reaches their nostrils. Just then we hear a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. I point to the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving towards us. We shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

The beast stood twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, it's great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. It held a huge wooden club that dragged along the floor. The smell coming from it was terrible. The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside before wiggling its ears and slouching into the room.

"The keys in the lock," Harry mutters. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," Ron says nervously.

We edge toward the open door as quietly as possible, praying that the troll wouldn't come out. With a great leap, I managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it.

"Yes!" We celebrate before running back up the passage, but as we reached the corner our hearts stop at the sound of a scream coming from the chamber we just locked.

"Oh no," Ron says.

"Oh shit!" I gasp.

"It's the girls' bathroom!" Harry realizes.

"Hermione!" We shout before wheeling around and sprinting back to the door, fumbling as we turned to key. Harry pulled the door open and we ran inside.

Hermione was cowered against the wall in fear as the troll advanced toward her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

I grab a tap in my hand and throw it as hard as I could against the wall. "Confuse it!" I shout. Harry starts throwing broken pieces of porcelain. The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise, setting its beady eyes on Harry. It hesitated, and then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Oy, pea-brain!" Ron yells from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

"Come on, run, run!" Harry yells at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.

The shouting and echoes only prove to irritate the troll and it roars and starts toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape. Harry then did something that I couldn't decide was very brave or very stupid. Looking back on this; most likely the latter option. He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped, which ended up going straight up one of the troll's nostrils. Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.

I make my way over to Hermione, who had sunk to the floor in fright, and pull her to her feet; Ron pulled out his own wand and cried out, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over, and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry shakily got to his feet, panting. Ron stood in shock, staring at what he'd done.

"Is it…" Hermione stares at the troll. "dead?"

"No." I shake my head. "Just knocked out."

Harry bends down and pulls his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue. "Urgh!" He groans. "Troll bogeys." He wipes it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps makes us look up. A moment later, Professor McGonagall bursts into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bends over the troll while Professor McGonagall looks at us with anger burning in her eyes. Her lips thins and white. "What on earth were you thinking of?" She asks with cold fury in her voice. Harry chances a glance at Ron, who still stands with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape sends Harry a piercing look, making the boy look at the floor. I silently pray for Ron to put his wand down, hoping that it will lessen whatever certain blow Professor McGonagall is bound to give us.

"Please, Professor McGonagall," Hermione pleads in a small voice. "they were looking for me."

She looks at the girl in shock. "Miss Granger!"

"I went looking for the troll because I…I thought I could deal with it on my own…you know, because I've read all about them." Ron dropped his wand in shock as Hermione lies to the teachers. "If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. I was too afraid to move so Trinity protected me. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." We all did our best to school our faces, not wanting to give Hermione away.

"Well…in that case…" Professor McGonagall stares at us. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" Hermione hung her head in shame. "Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses." Hermione left and the woman turned to us.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

We hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak until we were two floors up. Finally able to breath clean air instead of the stench of troll. "We should have gotten more than fifteen points." Ron grumbled.

"Ten." I correct him. "Once she's taken off Hermione's."

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him.

We finally reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Pig snout," we said and entered. The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door. We shared and awkward pause and avoided eye contact. "Thanks," we blurted out and hurried off to get plates.

From that moment on, Hermione Granger became one of our closest friends. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and apparently knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.


	7. Quidditch and Questions

Just when I was beginning to get used to being here, the weather decided to remind me that I was still a newbie. It's only the beginning of November and I'm already freezing. Luckily, I learned the warming charm a couple of weeks ago. Not everything is bad though. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. A welcome sight for someone used to the buzzling of a city.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry and I will be playing our first match after weeks of training; and to kick off the season, we will be going against Slytherin. Wood decided to use Harry as a secret weapon, being that hardly anyone had ever seen him play. I, on the other hand, had been training with the other chasers; practicing plays and maneuvers.

The news had leaked that we were on the team somehow. Harry seemed a little worse for wear because of it. I would be too if I constantly had people telling me how great I'd be, or promising to catch me if I fall from my broom. Unlike Harry, I'd actually played Quidditch before and I'm used to being on a broom. Add that with being from a magical family, the people had a little more faith in me.

When I wasn't training, I usually stay in the dormitory studying the book Aunt Irene had sent. I was just as, if not more, studious than Hermione so I was ahead of my classes. And also Anastasia needed a little love. Between studying and the last minute practices Wood has been having us do, my feline friend has been a little left out.

But I needed some free time too, which I was currently using to hang with my friends in the courtyard. Hermione had found Quidditch Through the Ages for Harry so that he can read up on the rules. She has also changed since we saved her from the troll. She lightened up a bit on being such a stickler to the rules. She was nicer for it too. She conjured up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. We were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?" He asks, Harry shows him the book. "Library books are not to be taken outside the school. Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," Ron said bitterly.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. We all sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy 'How will you learn?' she says, but she failed to realize that by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway.

I raised an eyebrow at Harry's restless fidgeting before he stands up. "I'm going to asks Snape for the book back."

"Good luck." I tell him.

He looks at us. "You aren't coming with me?"

"To face Snape?" I shake my head. "Hard pass."

He looks to Ron and Hermione. "Better you than me," they said together. Harry huffs at us before leaving.

I look down at the book I was reading; a guide on meditation. Aunt Raven mentioned how imperative it was to have a clear mind when working to become an animagus. I've meditated a few times with my aunt during our summer visits but I never made it a daily routine.

My reading is soon interrupted when Harry comes through the portrait hole, panting.

"Did you get it?" Ron asks, but notices the look on our friend's face when he comes to the table. "What's the matter?"

Harry explains to us what he had witnessed in the staffroom. "You know what this means? He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him; he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

"No," Hermione protests with wide eyes. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," Ron snaps at her. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape." He turns to me. "What do you think?"

I shrug sheepishly at Hermione, knowing how much she respects teachers but also being aware that their job doesn't absolve them of being able to commit crimes and other acts. "It's definitely suspicious that he was injured by the Cerberus. Especially since the only people most likely allowed in that room is Dumbledore and whoever the caretaker is; and I don't imagine that it's Snape."

The redhead nods, proud of my agreement with them. "But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?" He asks, bringing all of us into deep thought.

That night I lay on my bed with Anastasia in my lap, running my hand back and forth, her quiet purrs joining the slow breathing and snores around me. My first Quidditch match will take place the next day.

* * *

Even though it was bright out, it was still very cold. The Great Hall was buzzing with the chatter and energy of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast." Hermione urged Harry, trying to get the nervous boy to eat.

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast."

"I'm not hungry."

"Harry, you need your strength," Seamus Finnigan, a classmate of ours spoke up. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus." Harry deadpanned.

"Eat something Harry." I tell him. "We need you awake and ready, not tired and hungry." I stare him down until he starts to tentatively take bites of the toast in front of him.

* * *

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes. We could hear the roar of the crowd from inside the locker room.

Wood cleared his throat for silence. "Okay, men," he starts.

"And women." Angelina Johnson, a fellow Chaser cut in.

"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."

"The big one." Fred says.

"The one we've all been waiting for," George joins in.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart; we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two." Wood tells them. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it." He levels a glare at them, the 'or else' going unspoken yet heard. "Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

We walk out onto the field, the cheers of the crowd filling our ears. Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand. "Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you." She gazes at both teams. "Mount your brooms, please."

I mount my broom smoothly while Harry clambers onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle and fifteen brooms rose high into the air and we the game was on.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to first year Trinity Clairborn, a good find of Oliver Wood's, she's a natural on a broom - back to Johnson and-" The pass is intercepted by Slytherin. "No! The Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes…Flint flying like an eagle up there. He's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle. That's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and, OUCH! That must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger. Quaffle taken by the Slytherins. That's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which. Nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Clairborn back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes. She's really flying…dodges a speeding Bludger…the goal posts are ahead…come on, now, Trinity. Keeper Bletchley dives…misses…GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

I pump my fist, proud of my first score in an official Quidditch match. The cheers of my fellow Gryffindors fill the cold air along with the howls and moans from the Slytherins. I quickly get back in the game.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan says. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the…wait a moment…was that the Snitch?" A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear. Harry dived to get it, racing neck and neck with the Slytherin seeker Terrence Higgs but Marcus Flint blocked him on purpose, sending his broom off course and the bespectacled boy tightly gripping his broom.

"Foul!" Gryffindors on and off the team scream.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. In all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

"So, after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall growls.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"

"Jordan, I'm warning you…"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Johnson, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession." We continue on with the game. "Slytherin in possession…Flint with the Quaffle…passes Clairborn…passes Bell…hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose. Only joking, Professor. Slytherins score. A no…"

I tune Lee Jordan out as I notice Harry's boom spinning and jerking out of control, gasping when he is swung off of it, holding on with only one hand. The Weasley's flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

After a minute Harry was able to clamber back onto his broom and take off speeding toward the ground. He clapped his hand to his mouth, as though he was about to be sick, and hit the field on all fours. He coughed and gagged and something gold fell into his hand. "I've got the Snitch!" He shouts, waving it above his head. The Gryffindor's although confused, still cheer for the win.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it." Flint complains, trying to convince Madam Hooch to overturn the win. It made no difference, Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results; Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

* * *

Harry and I sit with Ron and Hermione in Hagrid's hut for tea.

"It was Snape," Ron explains. "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," Hagrid says. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

We all share a look, wondering what to tell the gentle giant. "I found out something about him," Harry starts. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid drops the teapot. "How do you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" I ask.

"Yeah, he's mine. Bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-" He cuts himself off.

"Yes?" Harry asks eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," Hagrid says gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish. Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Hermione cries out; apparently changing her mind about Snape after today's events. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid; I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Hagrid says hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh; yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel-"

"Aha!" Harry says. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid huffs, furious with himself.


End file.
